Day Seventeen - You Rang?
Who: Armand, Damion
Where: Near teh castle portal
When: Late Afternoon
Rating: Ahm, PG? I fail at ratings.
Status: Closed, Finished
Summary: Armand comes when he's called like a good little puppy and listens intently as Damion sets the task before him. He's none too thrilled about the suddenness of it all, but he's inclined to help out since it sounds like a good bit of fun. After a snack, he heads out.
Armand stepped through the portal, preternaturally golden eyes searching the unfamiliar room he was now in. This was not the cult’s lair, certainly. Nor the pits where they left those who would betray them to be scorched by the sun. Oh no, wherever he was, it was as alien as if he had suddenly skipped forth at least a century. Shaking off the vague and irritating sense of disorientation, he strode forth, booted heels clicking slightly on the tile floor.
Keen ears listened for the sound of others, jewel-like eyes continuing to take in his newfound surroundings. Where was Santino, then? And Lestat? Could he be found here as well? He heard a single vampiric mind in his head, and it was neither of those, was one he didn’t know. Or perhaps didn’t know yet, since the mind seemed to know him. He slammed his mind shut, blocking out the chatter of the one called Pandora, already tired of her drivel. Perhaps she thought that she knew him, but he did not know her and he did not care to at this moment. First things first, after all.
A cool expression on his face, Armand regarded the head of Riverfell levelly.
“Why have I come here?” he demanded of Damion, the timbre of his voice resonating with the same qualities as Pandora’s would have, the sound of it both seductive and threatening at once, though of course he meant little by it; these things simply cannot be helped when one is a creature such as he.
Where: Near teh castle portal
When: Late Afternoon
Rating: Ahm, PG? I fail at ratings.
Status: Closed, Finished
Summary: Armand comes when he's called like a good little puppy and listens intently as Damion sets the task before him. He's none too thrilled about the suddenness of it all, but he's inclined to help out since it sounds like a good bit of fun. After a snack, he heads out.
Armand stepped through the portal, preternaturally golden eyes searching the unfamiliar room he was now in. This was not the cult’s lair, certainly. Nor the pits where they left those who would betray them to be scorched by the sun. Oh no, wherever he was, it was as alien as if he had suddenly skipped forth at least a century. Shaking off the vague and irritating sense of disorientation, he strode forth, booted heels clicking slightly on the tile floor.
Keen ears listened for the sound of others, jewel-like eyes continuing to take in his newfound surroundings. Where was Santino, then? And Lestat? Could he be found here as well? He heard a single vampiric mind in his head, and it was neither of those, was one he didn’t know. Or perhaps didn’t know yet, since the mind seemed to know him. He slammed his mind shut, blocking out the chatter of the one called Pandora, already tired of her drivel. Perhaps she thought that she knew him, but he did not know her and he did not care to at this moment. First things first, after all.
A cool expression on his face, Armand regarded the head of Riverfell levelly.
“Why have I come here?” he demanded of Damion, the timbre of his voice resonating with the same qualities as Pandora’s would have, the sound of it both seductive and threatening at once, though of course he meant little by it; these things simply cannot be helped when one is a creature such as he.